Destiny's Distant Dream
by VanillaJ1967
Summary: "I really don't understand why you pretend to be arrogant." Merlin stated. "It truly amazes me, on occasion, you say the wisest things. Really Merlin, where does that come from?" Arthur wondered. Merlin had wished they'd be propper friends, not just two destinies, bound together by fate. But there were other days, they were.. ALMOST, and destiny seemed like a distant dream.


**Sorry, this story has been nothing but a pain. LOL! I co-wrote this with Samsquatch67! My author's note was important to add, so here it is. Thank you Samsquatch67 for the AWESOME help! :D :D Please read and review. Hope you all like it. :) :)**

**DISCLAIMER. Don't own 'em. ;) Just borrowing.**

Merlin didn't bother knocking on the door, just barely managing to get through with the breakfast platter. He closed it with a foot and hastily put the—In his opinion—over sized platter down on the large table one inside. He looked across the chambers at the bed, or, the sleeping, unaware Prince Arthur. He half walked, half jogged towards it, prying back the curtain from the window to let the sun filter in.

"Rise and shine!" He beamed cheerfully, despite his aching muscles from 'training' with the Prince the day before. More like being a practice dummy, a pell, he thought, or more like scoffed.

Arthur snorted awake, jolting in surprise as his blue eyes flew open and he looked around the room. His eyes met Merlin's grinning, impish expression.

"Merlin! What on earth? Must you always be so noisy in the morning?" Arthur asked.

He pushed himself up using one arm, and rubbed his free hand through his messy-stuck-to-one-side hair, then down his face, grunting and squinting into the sunlight. He sat up straight, and looked around, as if he expected to see his clothes laid out for him... which, he actually did, as he was the prince.

"Must you always be so under-appreciative?" Merlin chirped. "Before you throw anything, I did remember your breakfast, and if you're ready to be dressed..." he blew through the words quickly, and turned towards the monarch's wardrobe, fishing through it for the first items of clothing that matched what he was looking for, then turned back to Arthur.

"I don't understand why royalty can't clothe themselves, it isn't that hard, not that much to it. If all of you are that untalented how is it you think of yourselves as so high? Arms," he said energetically, waiting with a shirt in hand.

Arthur grumbled quietly as Merlin talked. He raised his arms as Merlin had asked, letting his manservant slip his shirt over his head. He shook his head, finally taming his unruly blonde hair. "I'm not under-appreciative. You're just a terrible servant. We've been through this a thousand times. And We are above you. I am fully capable of putting on my own clothes!" he stated, grabbing his trousers from Merlin and yanking them on. "The reason I am above you, is my mental capacity." he stated with a snide smirk.

"Yes, I understand, you're mental capacity makes you above me. The dumber one is, the higher rank he achieves, I understand, I understand," Merlin said in mock understanding. "Which explains why I'm a servant," he mused, looking thoughtful. He soon broke into a wide grin, waiting for Arthur's say in the banter, because he always had more to say in it. Or throw.

Arthur smacked Merlin's head as his face twisted into an annoyed, yet amused glare. "Oh no, Merlin, that's not how it works," Arthur stated. "I'm the prince because I am FAR more intelligent than you. You're my servant only because... well, you managed to save me once... probably tripped. You most likely did it on accident!" Arthur stated. He couldn't help smiling though.

"Aaahww!" Merlin belted, rubbing a hand on his head. Wasn't exactly better than getting things thrown at, now was it? He rolled his eyes at the Prince's comments.

"You're completely correct, Sire," he drew out the title teasingly, "It MUST have been an accident, why would any sane man or woman save a prat like yourself?" he said, the expression on his face as if completely baffled as he walked to the table, still rubbing his head. He grinned mischievously again, smiling broadly over his shoulder as he waited for the crowned Prince of Camelot to start eating his royal breakfast so his manservant could get his list of chores and be done with them before nightfall this time, because, despite common belief, he did have a life of his own.

"You're unbelievable!" Arthur spouted, throwing out both arms as if in confusion. Secretly, he quite enjoyed his teasing talks with Merlin, and didn't find him slow-witted at all, like he pretended to. He wondered what it would be like to have a dull, boring servant who was always on time, and never talked back to him. It would be strange. He was attached to Merlin... Merlin was what Arthur imagined a little brother would be like, though he would never say that aloud.

"Are you going to eat, or do you like your breakfast cold and stale? If you did, you should have told me that at the start of this job, I would have brought it to you that way every morning, Arthur," Merlin said, but even as he did he put his hands behind his back and stepped away in a somewhat sloppy version of the normal servant's 'stance'.

Arthur sent his best glare Merlin's way. "If it is cold, I'll cram it down your throat myself," he announced, then smiled a smile that meant trouble. "No stop acting like a clot-pole, Merlin," he added, pulling out a chair and sitting in it with a fair amount of grace, for it being so early.

He huffed quietly and pulled the platter of food toward himself, inspecting everything in the dishes and on the plates. He smelled the warm food, pulling out a roll first and digging in. "Mmhh... so good. What did YOU eat for breakfast? Some of Gaius' 'soup'?" he teased.

Merlin gaped incredulously at him. "First of all, you can't use my names! You have to make your own, it's a fair rule! Second, I didn't get to eat, because you're spoiled and get temperamental when I'm late, and I'd rather miss a meal than deal with a more-than-normal moody Arthur Pendragon. People do not give me enough credit!" the warlock separated the last word, bending his knees slightly and making hand motions for more emphasis.

Arthur chuckled, tossing the second roll, of which he'd had two, to Merlin. "Here, complainer. I'm not entirely heartless, but don't think it'll become a habit. It's hardly my fault you spend so much time at the tavern, and don't wake up early enough to have breakfast!" he stated with a snort, his face contorting in a smile-grimace as he spoke.

Merlin caught it in several clumsy flailing movements. "You know, I really don't understand why you pretend to be arrogant." The manservant examined the roll distantly. He'd always hoped one day they could be friends, actual, proper friends. Not ones that had a wall between because of their separate titles and destinies. Destinies tied together, two sides of the coin, but somehow, some days, it all just seemed to far away, like a distant dream of some kind.

"You'll be a good king one day, a kind one; a strong leader," he stated. Though, he knew Arthur normally hated his seemingly completely random, 'girly' comments, as the other man had put it before.

Arthur paused, looking intently at Merlin. "It truly amazes me that you... on occasion, you say the wisest things. Really Merlin, where does that come from?" he asked, eyeing Merlin with a thoughtful frown. It really wasn't that odd. Arthur knew Merlin was no idiot. Though he told him he was, that was untrue. Merlin was one of the kindest, most intelligent people he knew.

In that instant there were a thousand things that 'Emrys' wished to say. But most of them were related to fate, and magic, and all things that had no place in Camelot yet. One day, but that day was not this one. So he settled for an innocent smile and a shrug, picking at the roll in his hands, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly.

"Well, you can eat it. I won't behead you for that... not this time," Arthur chuckled, then went back to eating his own breakfast. He did wonder why he himself chose to act prattish. He didn't really know. He was raised that way, but he made the choice. Perhaps it was easier letting people thing him to be an arrogant, careless person, than the caring person he truly was.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said and finally bit into the roll.


End file.
